


Bullseye

by melendaire121



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melendaire121/pseuds/melendaire121
Summary: My version of 3x18, starting from Claire’s date with Dash. One shot.
Relationships: Claire Browne & Neil Melendez, Claire Browne/Neil Melendez
Comments: 26
Kudos: 64





	Bullseye

**Author's Note:**

> If it were up to me, the finale would’ve gone something like this, but sadly, David Shore doesn’t care what I think. So this is me getting out all my anger and frustration and heartbreak in one piece of work. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this, my fellow melendaire lovers! I certainly enjoyed writing it:)

Walking out of the bar with Dash, Claire once again heard Neil’s voice reverberating in her mind.

“ _If he’s the right guy, stop holding out for the right time_.”

Though she would never tell it to his face, Neil was usually right about these things. He had an uncanny way of knowing her better than she knew herself, of just  _ looking  _ at her and somehow unearthing all the things that she’d spent the better part of her life locking up and stowing safely away.

Ever since that fateful night on the stairwell, when he sat silently, without judgement, as she allowed herself to fall apart in front of him, she had known that any attempts to hide herself from him would be futile. He saw through the walls she built, the facades she put up.

It was refreshing. 

“Claire? Are you okay?” Dash prods, and it is then she realizes that she hasn’t been listening to a word he was saying. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just tired. I should get going though, I have an early surgery tomorrow.”

“Okay. Good night,” he says.

And she hears that voice again. The voice that urges her to take a chance, because its owner knows that she’s closed herself off from happiness for so long that running away from it is second nature now. 

So Claire takes a step forward and reaches for Dash, hoping against hope that  _ this  _ will be her shot at finally getting that happiness.

But when their lips meet, it feels odd. Uncomfortable. She doesn’t know what she expected, electricity pulsing through her veins or something, but all she can think about is the coldness of his mouth against hers and how the whole thing just feels  _ wrong_.

The realization is jarring, and she breaks away from Dash with a sad smile on her face, knowing that she would have to disappoint one of her closest friends, but not having the strength to do it.

She bids him goodnight and briskly walks away, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over as she wonders what’s wrong with herself. This was Dash, someone she’d known for almost a decade, someone she trusted dearly, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to love him. Not in the way Kayla wanted.  _ Kayla_. Yet another person she was going to be letting down.

She wondered if she had become incapable of falling in love. Maybe the years of emotional shutdown and all the baggage had taken their toll on her.

That night, she cries herself to sleep.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

When Claire shows up to work a little weary-eyed the next morning, her colleagues don’t say anything, to their credit. Shaun seems to notice something is off though, and when he asks if she’s okay in typical Shaun-fashion, she politely nods and forces a smile.

After she and Shaun go over their patient Finn’s case again, they walk into Neil’s office, where it seems he spent the night, poring over a solution that wouldn’t leave Finn at risk for stroke or spinal instability.

When Neil says that they can use her idea for a lateral approach to help Finn, she momentarily forgets about her miserable love life, overcome with the joy of being able to make a difference, the joy that makes her job so rewarding.

As she explains the revised procedure to Finn, she can feel Neil’s smile on her, and her heart swells with pride and a little bit of something else that she can’t quite put a name to.

For some reason, the fact that his solution was derived from her solution thrilled her. She’s always known that they worked well together. Their synchrony in the OR was something she’d heard many a nurse comment on before. “Browne is Melendez’s second pair of eyes and hands,” they’d say. 

But this was different. Just as their hands worked magic in the OR, their minds worked magic outside of it. The thought made her (almost) forget about that disaster of a date with Dash.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Her mood sours again after Shaun has a meltdown. She knows his behavior is a reflection of his fallout with Lea yesterday, and it just reminds her of how messy and complicated and frustrating love can be.

She wants to tell Shaun that Lea isn’t worth it, that  _ love  _ isn’t worth it, but before she can open her mouth to say something cynical, Neil walks Shaun out the door to have “a talk” with him.

She watches as a red-faced Shaun reluctantly takes a seat on the bench beside Neil, who seems to calm him down within a matter of minutes. 

Maybe it’s because she feels like there’s a war raging inside her, but for some reason, Neil’s calm composure angers her.

She suddenly feels very weak and collapses into the chair in the waiting room, putting her head in her hands.

She feels someone sit down next to her and looks up to see Park’s concerned face.

“Are you okay?”

God, she was so tired of being asked that question.

“Sure.”

“You don’t look like you’re okay.”

“I am.”

“Is it about Dr. Melendez?”

She glares up at him. “No.”

“I know you have feelings for him,” Park says carefully.

God, why did it always come back to this? Didn’t people realize that a man and a woman could be  _ just  _ friends?

“And I think he has feelings for you too.”

“We’re platonic friends,” Claire responds.

“You do realize that ‘platonic friends’ is redundant, right?”

She shrugs.

“Look,” Park sighs. “I know I told you not to be an oversharer, but this isn’t exactly what I meant. You can talk to me, you know.”

“Brevity is the soul of wit,” she tells him.

“Good, Romeo and Juliet, now we’re getting somewhere,” Park teases.

She rolls her eyes. “That’s Hamlet.”

“Can you just listen to me for one second, Claire?” 

“No! You listen to me. The relationship between myself and Dr. Melendez is strictly platonic, and I have no intention of pursuing something otherwise. We’re  _ friends_, just like you and I are friends. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because,” Park says. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you in the OR, when he thinks you’re not looking. I’ve seen the way you smile when you’re around him. Besides, you say the word platonic  _ way  _ too often for that to actually be the case.”

Claire blinks at him.

“Look, if there’s one thing I learned from my relationship with Mia, it’s that if you love someone, you shouldn’t wait to tell them. Because you might lose your shot altogether,” he tells her.

“Who said anything about love?” she asks.

Park stands up and pats her shoulder. “Don’t miss your shot,” he says. And then he’s gone.

Claire decides that Park must be out of his mind. It’s the only reasonable explanation for why he’s seeing things that aren’t there, like how she apparently smiles a certain way around Neil.

It’s infuriating to think that nobody can take a goddamn platoni-, er,  _ friendship  _ for what it is these days.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Claire confirms her theories of Park’s insanity later that day during Finn’s surgery, when she manages to go the whole time without smiling (which isn’t hard considering her ever-present fear of paralyzing her patient).

She watches Neil closely during the procedure (except when she’s busy with the screws and rods) to see if he ever glances discreetly at her and is pleased to have proven Park wrong when he, in fact, does  _not_.

She ignores the sinking feeling in her stomach and congratulates herself on this accomplishment.

The surgery proves to be a success, and Claire monitors Finn’s vitals afterwards. His post-op exam results come out normal, but she can’t shake the feeling that  her  idea almost left this man paralyzed. She wasn’t sure if a risk like that was worth taking ever again.

She walks into Neil’s office to update him and tell him what’s on her mind, because somehow, he always knows how to reassure her.

“Finn’s exam was normal,” she says. “But...I’m not sure it was worth the risk.”

“We did a good thing today, he replies. “Mostly because of you.”

In spite of herself, she smiles. “That’s kind of you to say.”

She knows he can tell that she doesn’t believe him, not fully.

“Your commitment to your patients...reminds me of why I got into medicine,” he says. “Being around you makes me a better surgeon. A better person.”

He said that last word so quietly that she wasn’t sure she heard him right. Her treacherous heart started doing somersaults and she couldn’t come up with anything else to say except:

“Well, goodnight.”

Before he could see the emotions raging a war across her face, she swiftly turns and walks away.

_ What the hell just happened? _

In that moment, it all crashes down on her. She physically feels the walls of brick and stone - that she spent years erecting - crumbling down around her.

She was an absolute fool for denying it.

She was  _ crazy  _ about him.

They hadn’t been platonic for a long time. In fact, she doesn’t think they’d ever been platonic.

From the moment she met Neil - that very first day of residency, when he complimented her for her medical school achievements and she smiled shyly and thanked him - from that first moment, there had been a spark between them. A spark that both of them had known was there, but refused to acknowledge, simply because she was his resident and he was her attending and it was  _ forbidden. _

She remembers how her heart leapt when he told her she was special, how it broke when he booted her off his service. She remembers every look they shared, every time the fire danced beneath their eyes, saying all the things that words never could.

She had never allowed herself to so much as  _ entertain  _ the idea of having feelings for her boss. For the first two and a half years of her residency, she had subconsciously buried deep inside even the tiniest ounce of attraction she could have felt for her attending, hiding it safely in a place even she couldn’t reach. He was Dr. Melendez, and she was Dr. Browne, and she was content with admiring him quietly from afar.

But then her mom died, and Neil became so much more than her mentor. He was her friend, her confidante, her partner. The person she trusted most in this world.

He took care of her when no one else did, supported her when no one else would. He didn’t just heal her, he  _ saved  _ her.

She thinks about the way they danced together, about their late night-runs and secret rendezvous at the bowling alley. She thinks about the night he walked back into that bar, the moment when she chose him and he chose her.

Neil Melendez was a surgeon. It was ironic that he had touched her so fiercely without ever once using his hands.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It wasn’t until Claire got home that night around 9:00 that she remembered she was supposed to have dinner with Dash. So she drives to his place, still very much rattled and flustered and quite distracted, you could say, by her recent realization.

When she pulls up to his driveway, Dash is waiting outside, and he gives no indication that their kiss (if it can even be called that) from the other night has changed anything.

He greets her with a hug and a smile and welcomes her inside, where it seems he’s been trying (unsuccessfully) to cook up something from one of Kayla’s recipes.

“I’m sorry about the mess. Guess I really can’t do anything without Kayla.”

“It’s alright. Cooking isn’t either of our fortes.”

“Well, uh, the mac and cheese turned out okay, do you want some?”

She laughed. “Sure, I would love some.”

They have an uneventful dinner, and Dash talks about his plans to take a trip to Yosemite, and something about bears and hiking boots.

She wonders what Neil must be doing right now, and then starts replaying their last conversation in her head for what must be the hundredth time.

She tells herself that his words don’t mean anything, that he was just being a supportive mentor and friend. After all, he was the one who wanted her to go out with Dash and - 

“Claire? You okay?”

“Um, yeah. Sorry it’s just been a long week. I’m just tired.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

She looks up at him. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she says. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Is it because of Dr. Melendez?” he asks.

Her eyes widened. Wow, was she really that much of an open book?

Dash laughed.

“Look, it’s okay. I’ve seen the way you are around him. Even when you guys first treated Kayla together, it was obvious there was something there. Everybody knows.”

“Everybody but him,” she says.

“Then you should tell him,” Dash says.

“What if he doesn’t - ”

“He does, Claire.”

“But, he’s my  _boss_ ,” she says, as if saying it would make any difference.

“Does your heart know that?” 

Dash stands up and walks towards her. “Life is precious, Claire. Time is precious. If I could tell Kayla that I love her just one more time…”

He starts sniffling, and Claire puts her arms around him.

When she pulls away, Dash looks her in the eye and his face turns serious.

“Don’t let another day go by that he doesn’t know what he means to you.”

So she doesn’t.

She just hopes she hasn't missed her shot.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Claire drives to his apartment that night, her heart beating out of her chest and her mind buzzing through a million reasons why this is reckless, foolish, a bad idea.

She knocks on his door four times, following the secret signal they had established (wow they really had been sneaking around, huh?) 

She waits for about a minute, and when he doesn’t show up, she thinks that maybe he must’ve gone out - 

But his car was parked in the driveway. The sleek black Tesla whose glossy exterior and elegant sophistication was somehow just inexplicably  _ him. _

He was ignoring her. 

She turns to leave, feeling her stomach closing in on itself, when he suddenly opens the door.

“Claire? I thought you were having dinner with Dash tonight.”

“Uh, I was. I called it an early night.”

“Oh, is something going on?” he asks.

She gestures inside, and he lets her in. 

Something about his place seemed off to her. It didn’t have its usual energy or life. He had no lights on except the one in the kitchen, and there was some  _ very  _ depressing concerto music playing in the background.

“Is that Bach?” she asks.

He nods.

“Since when are you a classical music type of guy?”

“Since always. I just never told you.”

Ouch. Why was he acting so pissy?

“Is it a bad time? I can come back later,” she offers.

“No, no, it’s fine. Tell me what’s on your mind,” he says, as they take a seat on the couch.

Claire takes in a breath.

“You were wrong.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I seem to be wrong on a lot of counts these days,” he says. “What about?”

“You said that if Dash was the right guy, I shouldn’t wait for the right time. So, I took your advice, I guess, and I kissed him.”

Neil’s brow furrows for a second, but he quickly switches his face back to neutral.

“And?”

“And, he’s not the right guy,” she says.

He sighs.

“You can’t get all that from one kiss, Claire. You probably caught him off guard or something. Don’t give up on him so quickly.”

“But I didn’t  _feel_ -”

“Give it time, Claire!” he bursts. He pauses for a second. “Relationships take  _ time.  _ You have to give him a chance to prove himself before you - 

“What is your problem?” she shouts.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you trying to mess with me or something?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Claire's eyes narrow at him.

“You tell me a whole load of  _ bullshit._ That I deserve to be happy, that I make you a better person. And then you go and tell me to make out with Dash! Who the hell do you think you are?

“I think I’m your attending! And this is dangerous territory you're walking into, Claire. More so for you than for me.”

“Oh, so you're trying to protect me?”

“That's right.” 

He moves closer to her on the couch, and she can just feel the waves of anger emanating off his body. If she weren't so upset with him, she would've found it very alluring.

His voice drops to a whisper, and somehow it sounds more callous than anything she’s heard in her life. 

“Unless you want to see your reputation tarnished, your career tainted by rumors, everything you've worked for flushed down the toilet - I suggest you listen to me. You and I are  _friends_.  And that is all we will ever be.”

She was wrong.

Dash was wrong. Park was wrong. Forget about missing her shot, there  _ was  _ no shot to take. Not with him.

She had fooled herself into believing that maybe, just  _ maybe, _he had felt even a tiny fraction of the riot that was in her heart. That maybe he thought she was worth the risk.

She was a fucking idiot.

Her eyes clouded with tears, and she could feel her throat closing up in that way it did when she first saw her mother’s body.

She choked back a sob and stood up.

“God, I can't believe I came over here and risked everything for this, for  _you_.”

He follows her as she runs to the door and grabs a hold of her arm.

It’s the first time either of them has crossed the physical touch boundary so carelessly, but they’re both too worked up to care.

“Don’t you dare act like you’re the victim here,” he says, and she thinks she hears his voice almost breaking. “ _You’re _ the one who showed up at my house in the middle of the night to tell me about your kiss with Dash.”

“What?”

“Do you know what I was planning on doing tonight? Look over there.”

He points to a bottle of chardonnay sitting on his kitchen countertop.

“I was planning on downing that whole thing and listening to my sad Bach playlist, like your typical classical music kind-of guy, while trying - unsuccessfully - to  _ not  _ think about what you and Dash were doing on your date. But before I could even get through my first glass -”

“It wasn’t, we didn’t -”

“Please, spare me the details, Claire. I know you have feelings for him, and I’ve given you my advice. Just take it and  _ leave._” He starts to turn away.

“God, Dash and I broke up, you jackass!” she screams at him.

He stops mid-step and slowly turns around.

“And I didn’t come here to tell you about the kiss. I came here to tell you that I love you!”

She sees something flash across his eyes, but she ignores it.

“I- I love you! God, I love you so much I don’t even know what to do with myself! It, it’s like you’re everywhere, and I can’t think about anyone else, and I can’t get rid of you no matter how hard I try because I  _ love  _ you.”

She looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something, anything.

“I should’ve known it was crazy,” she says. And she goes.

She runs out to the driveway and pulls out her keys, trying to stop the steady flow of tears that are now falling earnestly across her face.

She tells herself that it’s better this way, that at least she told him how she felt, and now she could finally move past it.

And then she’s suddenly pressed up against the door of her car and his mouth is on hers.

His hands find her face and hers find their way around his back as she pulls him flush against her, and all she can think is  _ this  _ is what a kiss is supposed to feel like.

It’s frenzied and reckless and he is everywhere all at once.

He keeps whispering “I love you” and “I’m sorry” against her lips, and she moans her reply into his mouth. She tastes their tears, mingled together, and it tastes like years of pent-up desire. Longing, yearning,  _ aching  _ for each other.

When he pulls back to look at her, she instantly misses his touch.

“Claire, I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry. I love you. God, I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay. I like idiots.”

He laughs, and she thinks that it just might be the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching out to wipe away a stray tear on her face.

“Just stop apologizing and kiss me already.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Being with him is nothing like she imagined, not even in her wildest dreams. 

She could never have foreseen the way his skin felt against hers, the way he moved so gracefully, so elegantly.

His surgeon’s hands were deft and precise in the OR, but on her body, they roamed frantically, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.

He was so gentle, so reverent, whispering his adoration across her skin, and she wonders how she ever thought she knew what it was like to be  _ loved  _ until this very moment.

For the first time in her life, she’s idiotically happy. 

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

When she returns to work the next morning, she runs into Park in the lounge.

“You look awfully chipper this morning,” he smiles.

“I took my shot,” she says.

“How’d it go?”

“ _ Bullseye _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> So? How’d you like it? This was my first fanfic, and I apologize for any errors haha. Thank you so much for reading! It would mean the world to me to hear what you guys think!
> 
> I have another one shot in the works as well, let me know if you'd be interested:)


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